In a twist of fate, a man who seemed stuck perpetually in his late twenties strolled through the halls of an overly extravagant and overly modern castle, unlike the clichéd settings you'd find in those typical urban novels.
With him was a girl sporting brown hair and hazel eyes, walking in perfect synchrony like they were auditioning for some synchronized walking Olympics.
"Father, are you like, totally sure about your decision?" the girl inquired, trying her best to grasp her father's intentions through his constant contemplative expression. It's not like he could just get a signboard to display his thoughts.
"What decision?" Her father feigned innocence, pretending to have the attention span of a goldfish.
"Ugh, don't even try to play innocent. I'm talking about this Thaumaturge Tournament, hello!" she retorted, not impressed by his evasive tactics.
"What about it?" he replied, conveniently feigning ignorance once again.
